PART SEVEN DECEMBER 28TH

Lydia Lee said:

“Pilar, I think you had better stay with us until we can arrange something definite for you.”

Pilar said meekly¹:

“You are very good, Lydia. You are nice. You forgive people quite easily without making a

fuss² about it.”

Lydia said, smiling:

“I still call you Pilar, though I suppose your name is something else.”

“Yes, I am really Conchita Lopez.”

“Conchita is a pretty name too.”

“You are really almost too nice, Lydia. But you don’t need to be bothered by me. I am going

to marry Stephen, and we are going to South Africa.”

Lydia said, smiling:

“Well, that rounds off things very nicely.”

Pilar said timidly³:

“Since you have been so kind, do you think, Lydia, that one day we might come back and

stay with you—perhaps for Christmas—and then we could have the crackers⁴ and the burning

raisins⁵ and those shiny things on a tree and the little snowmen?”

“Certainly, you shall come and have a real English Christmas.”

“That will be lovely. You see, Lydia, I feel that this year it was not a nice Christmas at all.”

Lydia caught her breath. She said:

“No, it was not a nice Christmas. . . .”

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